Operation NBC
by mufasasqueen
Summary: Jay Leno has an evil plan and the late night greats Letterman, Conan, Kimmel, Stewart, Colbert, Fallon, Lopez and Craig Ferguson have to team up to stop him. But things are not what they seem. Lots of slash pairings within among the aforementioned. Enjoy! R/R
1. Jimmy Fallon

It's time for the talk show showdown. Will Team everyone else be able to vanguish Team Leno? Who will pick whose side? Will Fallon get the tonight show? Features many people. For this chapter there are Fallon, Letterman, Brien, Lopez, Ferguson, Stewart and Stephen.

A/n: I really love talk shows and I love the soap opera drama of them all. So i thought one day, "Might as well make it a full on soap opera drama." I love talk show hosts in general and I thought itd be cool to put them together in a series.

Chapter 1: Fallon will not fall

When Jimmy Fallon awoke, he was in a warehouse.

They were all sitting in in steel chairs, in a circle, like an AA meeting. The air was unusually tense. Everyone was quiet and the place was dimly lit only by a single overhead lamp.

"What is this? A fight club?" Jimmy joked, cracking up at the point he had said 'is'.

But the man directly across him didn't smile. That man had wavy white hair and rectangle gold specs. Jimmy recognized the man.

"Letterman!" he exclaimed. David Letterman simply nodded. He was frowning. But then again, he always frowned. "What do you want with me?" Letterman took a deep breath.

"Jimmy Fallon, we are gathered here today to tell you a very important message. This is vital. If you don't take this to heart, you could lose everything."

"Okay…" Jimmy Fallon looked around. That's when he realized all the people sitting in the chairs, in the circle. Beside Letterman was Conan O'Brien, who looked unexpectedly sad. Then again, he hadn't been the same since NBC. Beside him was Craig Ferguson, who was smoking a cigar and eating haggis. And then it was Jimmy Fallon. But to his right were Colbert and Stewart. They were whispering to each other and pointing at Conan. And beside them was George Lopez.

They were all talk show hosts! Jimmy Fallon realized. And this was some sort of talk show host secret initiation meeting. He got excited and fidgeted in his seat. Finally, it was as if he had truly made it if he actually got to sit here with all the great talk show hosts and George Lopez.

He also noticed people moving in the corner of the warehouse. He looked over and saw Paul Schaffer and Andy Richter whispering. Geoff (the robot from Ferguson's show) was silent next to them. And then he saw John Oliver and his own band.

"The Roots!" Jimmy Fallon called and waved, but they looked back at him and shook their heads. They were serious. This was giving Jimy Fallon a bad feeling. He laughed to quell is nerves.

"Why did you guys bring me here?" he asked.

Letterman tapped his pimp cane on the floor. It made sense for someone like Letterman to have a pimp cane, somehow.

"Fallon, we have to convince you not to take the tonight show," Letterman said gravely. Beside him, Conan was nodding, still serious. But Craig laughed, George Lopez made a latino joke and the two basic cable boys were still whispering.

"But I really want the tonight show," Jimmy Fallon said sadly. He thought this would be a happy occasion where they would congratulate him on getting the tonight show. That's when he noticed that hold on, Jay Leno wasn't here. Or Jimmy Kimmel.

"Hold on, Jay Leno isn't here. Or Jimmy Kimmel." He laughed because he'd said exactly what he'd been thinking.

At the sound of Jay Leno's name, Conan twitched so violently that Jimmy Fallon at first thought he was gonna do a spontaneous string dance. But Andy had to come over and whisper to Conan to get the orange-haired Harvard grad former snl writer (like him!) to calm down. Conan nodded and breathed deeply. Jimmy Fallon was weirded out by this out of character Conan. At least Craig Ferguson was still acting normal, eating haggis and smoking a guitar. There was a bagpipe under his chair.

"Yes, we need to talk to you about Jay Leno," said Letterman, who glared. He reminded Jimmy Fallon of a Fairy Oddparents character, the way he said Jay Leno's name. Dingleburrrrg!

"But Jimmy Kimmel?"

"Who gives a fuck about Jimmy Kimmel," Craig finally smoked. George Lopez said something about Latinos.

"Yes, shut up now. I'm getting to the point!" Letterman roared, tapping his pimp cane on the floor again. At this, Stewart and Colbert finally stopped whispering and turned to everyone else. They were sharing the same steel chair, like siamese twins.

Before Jimmy Fallon could joke about this, Letterman began. "I know you know about what happened to me and Conan so I think you know what this is going to be about. Do you know?"

Fallon nodded. "Yes, yes. You both lost the Tonight show and I'm sorry. But I think I can really do it this time, guys. Jay Leno said yes. He called me personally in fact. We even dueted on our shows. It was funny. He's tired of showbiz."

"He's a RAPIST of showbiz!" Letterman boomed. Fallon jumped.

"What?!"

"Don't listen to that lying rat bastard in a vintage car! Fuck him! He raped me decades ago!" Jimmy Fallon had never seen Letterman this angry since the Joaquin Phoenix interview.

"Jay Leno?!"

"Can you stop saying his name?" Conan yelled at Fallon. Craig had to hold him back. Some haggis got spilled on everyone.

"Yes," Letterman said. "He raped me and that was his plan all along. I left NBC because of that. I was scarred and confused. And then…" He looked at Conan, who folded his arms and looked serious. "Very recently, as you know, Leno screwed Conan. Figuratively and sexually. He's still dealing with it right now."

"I…" Jimmy Fallon couldn't believe this. "Leno wants to rape me?! But why? Are you guys just jealous that I'm going to keep the tonight show?!" It wasn't surprising that he was angry. This seemed like one big bout of black humor. Rape jokes weren't even funny, well maybe only if Dane Cook told them.

"DON'T BE naïve!" Letterman yelled. "This is showbiz! He's going to do it to you if you don't think of a plan! What happens when it happens, huh?! Are you going to end up celibate for the rest of your life like me after I screwed my interns or are you just going to be easy like Conan and do it with everyone as a self-defense mechanism?"

Jimmy Fallon sputtered. He thought Conan was just drunk that one time he asked if they wanted to fuck.

"Now you know that Jay Leno holds the record for being the rapist of 'oldest rape victim' with Letterman," Stewart said.

"And Conan I guess is the 'tallest rape victim'," Colbert added. "Or maybe the only ginger ever raped."

"But that means you'll probably the only rape victim to laugh halfway during the sex," said Stewart. Jimmy Fallon was horrified. Craig was roaring with laughter. Lopez said something about Latinos, still not unaware that the room was not in fact full of an audience of latinos who would understand his cultural jokes but instead filled with white guys who could not comprehend much less appreciate his repetitive humor.

"Don't joke about this," Conan hissed at the two comedy central duo. "How fucking dare you?"

"We just want you to have a threesome with us again," Colbert said to Conan, waggling his eyebrows.

"Okay, okay, wait!" Jimmy Fallon threw his hands in the air. "I don't get it at all! I don't get why Jay Leno would even want to do that! He has a wife! He's not even gay! And I'm not a vintage car so why?"

"Not gay? This is showbiz, Jimmy Fallon. Don't tell me you didn't have to do some dick-sucking to get your show. We all did. It's a normal part of the process when becoming a show host."

No one disagreed with Letterman. Jimmy Fallon felt the world crumbling around him. He thought that had been a one-time thing with the NBC executives. He thought they just really liked his body. But apparently this was normal? How sick were TV executives?

"But Ellen and Oprah! Ellen's even a lesbian!"

"Why do you think they both became lesbians for fuck's sake!"

"What about Chelsea Handler then?!"

"She just really loves dick okay?"

Fallon fell back against the back of his chair, like the wind was all out of him. This was so much to take in. He wanted the tonight show but he didn't really want to be raped to get it.

"Isn't there something I can do?" He said weakly.

"Yes," Letterman said. He sighed. "I have a plan. And you play the biggest part of it."

"You know what, I just realized I want nothing to do with this okay?" Conan suddenly said, getting up. Before anyone could respond, he was walking out of the warehouse. And since Conan was so tall, that probably only took him like eight steps to end up outside. He was really tall. Andy went running after the Irish catholic, carrying bottles of hairspray. Figures, Fallon thought, Conan's hair looked pretty sad.

"What's his deal? Blarmey!" Craig said, blowing a smoke ring out of his cigar. "The Irish really are nothing compared to us scots."

"He's just really horny," said Stewart.

"Yeah, he and Andy are probably doing it in the car right now," giggled Colbert. "Sodomites!" He said in his alternate Colbert voice. "Go to hell!"

"Hey, we're gay!" Stewart protested.

"We are?"

"Bunch of latinos," said George Lopez who was pretty much ignored by everyone. Who invited this guy?

"Look, you will sit here and listen to the plan," Letterman brandished the pimp cane at Jimmy Fallon's face. Jimmy Fallon raised his hands in mock surrender. He couldn't help but laugh. He never could help but, well, laugh.

"Okay," he said. "What should I do?"

Letterman had an evil smile when he said "This is what I like to call operation NBC: Nut Bust Coward. We've called ourselves the Time to Get Rid of Leno Team or TGRLT."

"Okay, I'm listening," said Fallon, who cracked up at 'okay'.

"Well first, here's a top ten list on why we should get Leno!"

Badumtsh!

-To be continued-

R/R!


	2. Jimmy Kimmel

Operation (NBC) Nut Bust Coward 2

Okay here's the second chapter. But here's the fic summary:

Talk show showdown continues. Conan is upset, Fallon is scared, Letterman is angry. Craig is scotish. But this chapter focuses on Jiminy Kimmel. Why wasn't he invited to the late night talk show host AA meeting? We're about to find out. Will Jay Leno get what's coming to him?

A/n: This is gong to be long but i'm making things up as I go. I could easily see this being 50-81 chapters long but I'm not sure yet since my chapters arent long anyways. Btw i'm still thinking the pairings over. I just know everyone will end up with someone. Isn't that exciting? Lol orz.

Chapter 2: The Nuttening aka Jimmy Kimmel Cricket!

Jimmy Kimmel knew he was the ugliest talk show host but he didn't deserve this treatment from anyone.

He ripped up all his late night posters, burned his late night pajamas and destroyed his dave letterman gum sculpture. He even removed the batteries from his late night talk show mic dildo. It was custom-made and from Armenia.

Why?

Why was Jimmy Kimmel doing this?

Because…

It all started with a phone call. A mysterious voice called him on the phone. Jimmy Kimmel was thinking of more ways to get stupid people to send him unfunny youtube vids when someone called him on the phone. He picked up.

"Jimmy here,"

"Jimmy who?"

"What is this a knockknock joke? Jimmy Fallon," Jimmy, not Fallon, but Kimmel joked. The caller didn't laugh, which means he really believed he was Jimmy Fallon.

"Dipshit I know this is Kimmel!"

"What do you want asshole!" Jimmy Kimmel yelled. He wasn't in the mood for this. He had youtube vids to splice together badly.

"I wanted to tell you about a secret meeting among talk show hosts that didn't involve you. They didn't invite you on purpose but they're planning to take down Leno."

"What the fuck! Those bitches," Jimmy Kimmel swore. This wasn't part of the plan. He always thought he was friends with all of them. It's not like he was a George Lopez, who everyone just naturally didn't like. But really? Did they not invite him cause he was from ABC? Did they think he was as bad as Leno?

"Who was there? Tell me now!"

"Okay, be patient," said the voice. It was gnarly and raspy. Jimmy Kimmel didn't recognize it. "Letterman planned it and Conan was there, and Craig and Fallon and Stewart and Stephen and George Lopez. The sidekicks were there too."

Jimmy Kimmel had to grab the table edge because he was so angry he thought he might faint. They invited George Lopez but not him? This was too extreme. Letterman knew he was a big fan. Was he creeped out by Jimmy Kimmel because Jimmy Kimmel once told him he made love to a prostitute who reminded him of Dave? And Conan… Jimmy Kimmel had pretty much saved Conan's life by making Jay Leno look like a wimp that one time. He even said yes to having sex with Conan that one time because Conan came to him after the NBC incident looking for comfort. He'd said Jimmy Kimmel was the first person he'd sought comfort in the arms of, and Jimmy Kimmel gave it to him, even though Dave Letterman was still his favorite talk show host in the history of time (no offense, Conan).

"Which one of those is you then?" Kimmel demanded. The voice shrugged.

"Why the fuck would I tell you? I just thought I should warn you because shit's going down and you might do something to ruin their plan. Don't tell any of this to Leno."

"What?!" Jimmy Kimmel was furious and enraged. This was just insulting. "Well, what do you want?"

"I just wanted to warn you. Keep that bushy head of yours down, Kimmel. Just go back to making unfunny youtube videos okay?"

Jimmy Kimmel slammed the cellphone down on its receiver. This was unbelievable. And he'd been having a good day. He decided, he had a good idea.

"Hello everybody," he said later during his show. "I'm Jimmy Kimmel and this is live with Jimmy Kimmel. Today we're going to tape a special segment and I need your help. I want you to send to me videos of your best impersonations of other talk show hosts… While they're sucking cock. That's right. I want you to pretend to be a talk show host and suck cock and we'll show a collection of the clips here later. We're gonna take a commercial break but when we come back, Eminem!"

The crowd applauded and clapped as Kimmel wiped sweat from his brow and went backstage. If anything could get the other show hosts' attention, it was that challenge he'd just initiated. And if not, then at least they'd be really pissed, because that was Jimmy's plan.

Speaking of plans…

Kimmel was backstage, checking youtube and his email constantly for people to send him vids. But after a few minutes, there was still nothing. He couldn't believe it. Had his challenge been too hard? It was just an impersonation for fuck's sake. Why weren't those stupid idiots doing anything?!"

Maybe he should've asked them to make their kids do it. For some reason, parents really got excited about forcing their kids to do things Kimmel asked them to do. It was pretty creepy.

Jimmy Kimmel was about to go outside to yell at his audience and watchers to hurry the fuck up when a ping! Sounded. He clicked on the message, and a video started playing.

"G'day matey!" Came the scottish voice and accent of one mister Craig Ferguson, star of late night with Craig Ferguson. The scottish man was grinning widely. "How are yeh?"

"That's a pretty good imitation, asswhipe!" Jimmy Kimmel snorted, laugh grunting.

"Now befoh you ask eh-nything, I'm noh' an imitation. I'm tha real Craig Ferguson! Now shut up and listen yer wanker," Craig said, pointing at the screen (and at Jimmy Kimmel).

"Now hold on, you can't talk to me that way!" Jimmy shouted back, but he finally realized that it was just a sent youtube video, not a skype video conference call.

"Oh yes, I will! I knew yer were going ter say that," Craig bellylaughed, then became serious. "Anyway, I'm here to talk to yer about a meeting we just had. And before yer get yer underpants in a twist, Letterman didn't wanna invite yer because he's creeped out by yer. But he wants you as part of our cause, alright?"

Then Craig Ferguson explained to him what happened.

"HOLY FUCK!" After that, Jimmy Kimmel didn't what to say. He didn't know what to feel. He felt so goddamn angry. Leno was twelve times worse than he'd thought. And now everything made sense. It made Jimmy Kimmel's skin crawl. Before, Leno had considered crossing over to ABC. So he became friends with Jimmy Kimmel, and Jimmy had let him. They'd drank together, eaten together. He'd even been inside Jay Leno's vintage car!

Jimmy Kimmel felt like having eight hot showers. He felt disgusting.

"Well, what do I do?! How can I even help if Letterman doesn't want me to?" Jimmy Kimmel demanded, balling his fists in tears.

"Woah, wotcher, wotcher," Craig said. "Just relax, wanker. I'm telling yer this for that reason. You're going to help us. We'll be in touch because we need to bring down Leno together."

"Okay," Jimym Kimmel sniffled.

"Now, the first thing we have to do is spread bad rumors about Leno to get everyone hating him again. Try to access old peole with yer show because theyre the fucking stupidest. Stupid old fucks are the only fucks who watch gay Leno. Ya hear?"

Jimmy Kimmel nodded. "Okay. What else?"

"Well, just do that fer now. We still have to plan a lotta shit, yer see." Craig scratched his head. "I'm not sure what else we can do fer the moment. Keep your head low, alright? No one's gotta know about this fer now."

"I know, I know."

"Okay. So we'll see yer soon."

"Alright. Thanks, Craig. You're a lifesaver. And tell Letterman… Tell Letterman…" Kimmel was suddenly heartbroken. Letterman had always been kind of an asshole – everyone knew that – but Kimmel genuinely liked him and even had him on his show, where he confessed how obsessed he was with Letterman. Obviously, he'd come on too strong and everything. Kimmel wanted to go back in time and kill himself.

Fuck this life! Why was showbiz so hard?!

"Craig, tell Letterman—"

"Er wait, hold on!" Craig darted out of the frame. Suddenly, all he could hear were noises.

"NO! Conan, what the hell are yer doing here?! I told you, once was enough now GO you wanker!"

"Craig? Ferguson?" Kimmel called, but Craig Ferguson didn't seem to hear him.

"Yer rascal! Yer long irish fir tree! I told yer, once is enough! PUT YOUR ROBE BACK ON GODDA—"

The screen turned black.

Jimmy Kmmel stared for a minute, then an evil smile grew on his face. He walked slowly back outside, and into his studio.

He sat down behind his desk as everyone cheered.

"Okay, we're back from commercial break! I want to scratch that last request. Obviously, I was a bit loopy there. Aren't we all loopy now and then?" everyone laughed. Kimmel was a comedic stradivarius. "Anyway, it's time to present to you a new skit. I feel like I haven't done this one in yeaaaars." He pulled out a familiar Leno wig from his desk and everyone shrieked with excitement.

"And tonight, playing the role of Jimmy Fallon this time is our very own Chevy Chase! Everyone give him around of applause!"

Chevy Chase came out wearing a Jimmy Fallon wig, and everyone laughed and clap. They applauded loudly. Kimmel shook Chevy's hand and let him sit down beside him.

Kimmel smiled inside. He knew that the war was only beginning.

-To be continued!-


	3. Craig Ferguson

Operation NBC (Chapter 3)

A/n: Hello millions of potential readers! Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out. I've been watching talk show hosts for days to try and be able to write them better. It's hard keeping up with all of them but I'm pretty sure I've seen every episode of every talk show host in the universe!

ALso I learned how to tag orz.

Summary: Anyway, in this chapter, TGLRT meets again and we see things from the pov of Craig McFerguson! This is when things start to get hot and heavy so be warned. Btw all characters make appearances… Except Jay Leno… He's the big bad so he'll be in the shadows for a while, at least except for his huge chin. Enjoy!

Chapter 3: Craig Ferguson Is the Star

Craig mumbled as he woke up. Birds were chirping outside and the morning breeze was bothering him. Bah, American air. He missed Scotland. He missed his labrador Nessie. It couldn't make the plane back then, you see.

Craig was in his four-poster bed, relaxing under the white sheets when the figure beside him shifted. Poufy red hair popped up from under the blanket beside him, and Craig looked down to see Conan yawning, blinking his eyes blearily. He massaged his temples, groaning.

"What happened last night?" He mumbled, then saw Craig, and immediately looked upset.

"'Ey, I'm the one who gave you comfort after you threw yourself at me! Why are you the one looking at me like I'm the devil?" Craig all but roared.

"It's just… Unexpected," Conan replied softly, disappointment coloring his voice.

Craig didn't know what to think. Conan never was the same way after NBC. No one knew what was on his mind at at all times. They just tried to provide help whenever they could.

Okay, that and the free sex was nice to have.

"Cheer up, Irish," Craig said, and pulled whiskey out from under his bed. He started pouring himself a glass. "Why don't you have a drink since sober doesn't seem to be agreeing with yeh?"

"I thought you're supposed to never drink again."

"Well that's when alcohol is a poison. Right now, it's a cure. So take it. Now." Craig pushed the full diamond glass into Conan's hands. He realized what a strange scene it was, them sitting in bed together with covers covering only their lower torsos. They were both sitting up, backs against the headboard, and the sun entering through the window only served to highlight Conan's extremely pale skin compared to Craig's darker Scottish one.

"Thanks," Conan said as he took the glass. He started drinking, then suddenly stopped and spat the alcohol out. Craig thought he was doing a bit at first, but Conan dropped the glass on the floor and it shattered into a variety of a thousand pieces. Conan gasped, and started hyperventilating, trying to get out of the bed.

"Woah, woah, what!" Craig shouted as he climbed on top of Conan to calm him down. He made sure to pin Conan down on the bed with his full weight, pretending they weren't both really naked so their downstairs were touching full-force.

Conan stopped struggling, probably still exhausted and sore from all the hot ass-penetrative sex last night. "Get off!" He yelled at Craig. There were tears flowing down his pale cheeks.

"WHY?" Craig yelled back. "WHAT tha hell is the ma'er? Yer can tell me!"

"That's the drink Leno gave me the night he… He…" Conan couldn't finish.

But he didn't have to. Craig knew what was up. That was when Leno screwed Conan without his consent – not figuratively yet, with the Tonight Show – but sexually. If the Scotsman had known about this dark side of the business, he never would've gone into comedy. When did the talk show host busines get so messed up? Conan seemed to be thinking the exact same thing because he started sobbing uncontrollably.

This was feeling more and more like an Oprah segment, and Craig wouldn't stand for that. It took a while before he was able to calm Conan down. The spicy redhead wasn't interested in sex anymore for that day so that option was off the table, but he seemed satisfied when Craig gave him some kind words.

Later that morning, Conan finally left after much persuasion. He exited wearing one of Craig's shirts (but kept his own pants since no one's pants were really long enough to fit Conan). Craig noticed that Conan never seemed to wear his own clothes anymore. What the fuck?

Craig drove his car (called the Secretariat, since it was a mustang) to work. He greeted everyone and sat down at his desk to think. Now that Jimmy Kimmel was on their side, they stood a better chance of boxing in Leno and tossing him out of the showbiz widow. But they really needed to figure out a plan of action or else Leno would wreak havoc on the talk show world forever.

Craig gave Letterman a call.

"Why hallo thar," he greeted cheerfully, his Scotish accent thick. Letterman grunted in response.

"Hello, timeslot-after-mine. What seems to be the problem?"

"Nothin', really. I was just wonderin' if we finally cooked up a plan to get Leno. I contacted Jimmy Kimmel and—"

"What? Why'd you do that? I hate that asshole!"

"What! Why? He's a good guy!"

"He's a freak!" Letterman shouted. "He's really obsessed with me and has been since he was seventeen. Did you see those pictures he showed on his dumb show? I swear, with the way he keeps stalking me you'd think he was Jay trying to assault me again."

"But you invited George Lopez into our club and no one likes George Lopez," Craig argued.

"I invited Lopez instead of Jimmy Kimmel doesn't that say something about how bad Jimmy Kimmel is?"

"Aw come on, he can help! Really. He's a nice guy who'll do anything to take Leno down."

"He's a little boy still playing late night dress up and it's weird."

"Okay well enough of that," said Craig, changing the topic abruptly. Letterman was the asshole of assholes and sometimes he didn't know why he bothered, but the man was smart and really depressed. Everyone felt sorry for him. "I just wanted to ask what we're gonna do exactly. I mean we have had like one meeting and no one has any idea of how we're gonna get Leno out."

"I have an idea, and you play a big role in it," said Letterman. "Here's the thing: of all the people, Leno probably knows you the least. I mean he can't even remember your name! He thinks you're Burmese or something. You're harmless. We'd normally do this at Fallon's show but Fallon's such a pussy and still won't believe Leno is an asshole. By the time we're done, Fallon will think of Leno like Sadam Hussein or Dick Cheney. We'll have to fix that. Anyway, I was thinking we should get Leno to go on your show."

"Why on earth would he go on mah show?" Craig said, dumbfounded.

"Because Leno doesn't say know to anything. Remember that Superbowl ad I did with Oprah and Leno? Why else would he do that, we hate each other! But he said yes. And he'll certainly say yes to you."

"I don't know about this. I don't feel comfortable interviewing a man who's forced two of my friends into sex."

"It's okay, he doesn't like Europeans," Letterman said absently. "You have Geoff to protect you, too."

"Ah, Geoff, yes."

"He's like your sidekick, right? I think you should get an actual sidekick. You're a pretty alone guy. Don't you have somebody to love?"

Craig didn't know how to answer. He didn't really have anyone, that was true. He often had one-night stands or Conan (whenever Conan was drunk off his ass) but that was pretty much it.

"Mind your own business," Craig muttered. "Okay, I'll have him on my damn show."

"Excellent," Letterman said, rubbing his fingertips together. "I'll plan it in a way that everyone gets to participate and I can have my revenge I mean save Jimmy Kimmel."

"Don't you mean Jimmy Fallon?"

"Same difference!" Letterman hung up.

Craig turned to his empty office. Geoff was deactivated in the corner, his eyes holier than usual. Craig approached him and touched his metal face.

"Oh Geoff. This isn't the first time I've wished you were real, old chap."

Craig wanted to drink again. Damn that Letterman.

-TBC?-


	4. Stephen Colbert

Operation NBC (Chapter 4) → things get megahot

A/n: My tracker is recording a buncha visitors so i'm happy. Sorry for the delay with this chapter. Still watching talk shows whoooo I feel like I know every celebrity in the milky way right now. I know I promised lotsa chars in the last chap but I forgot orz so I decided to make up for it with this chapter. Whatch at though because NC-17 ALERT!

**Pairings** in this chapter: Stewart/Colbert, a bit of Colbert/Conan/Stewart and extremely lightly implied J/Conan/Andy. Warning for roleplay and heavy talk and a bit of violence and alcohol, as in really minor orz.

Enjoy!

This chapter focuses on Colbert.

**Chapter 4: The Matt Lauer**

Colbert moaned as he entered Jon, who moaned. Colbert was fucking Jon and it felt amazing. They sometimes switched, but this time Colbert was the one was on top. And boy, was he enjoying it. He bit Jon's nape as he nails him again and thrust as deep as he could. Jon shouted.

"STEPH!"

"Yes?" Colbert said with an evil laugh.

"That feels great!"

"Thanks" Colbert groaned as they continued to have sex. But something felt missing somehow. Admittedly, it wasn't as good as usual and Colbert knew it. His thrusts were getting weaker, like he was a vibrator instead of a handheld dildo, and even Jon turned around and asked if he was okay.

Colbert frowned. "This sex is… UNACCEPTABLEEEEE!"

"Oh no, not the fake Colbert. C'mon Stephen, I like it more when you're real." Jon turned around and cupped Colbert's face in his hands. "I love you Stephen, I like the real you. It's just the two of us; you don't have to pre-tend."

Stephen snapped out of his reverie. "What… What just happened?"

"You were the fake Colbert for a while there," Stewart said soothingly. He continued massaging Colbert's face. "What was that all about, buddy? What the fuck happened?"

"I don't know, Jon. It was weird. I was just thinking and then something happened."

"Oh."

Colbert was soothed by Jon's hands but he wanted to get back to the sex. It was weird though, how the sex wasn't as good as usual. He decided to try one of their tricks.

"Hey Jon?"

"Yes, Steph?"

"Can we roleplay LOTR tonight?"

"Okay." Jon got up to go get the robe and wizard hat and staff and Colbert pulled out his balrog costume from behind the bed. It even had a whip, which Colbert normally loved using. But this time, the whip felt emasculated and limp in his hand. He usually got so turned on whenever he held it.

Jon came out of the bathroom wearing a sexy Gandalf costume and they both laughed and smiled. Soon, they were making out again – just like old times – and Colbert had a hard-on. He laid Stewart down on their bed and climbed on top of him.

"You shall not pass… Without lube," Stewart said, mouth splitting into a wide grin. Colbert held the bottle of vaseline up with his balrog claw. It was hanging from the end of the whip.

"I have some here, melon," he said affectionately. (Melon is the elvish word for friend). Things where finally getting good. Jon lubed himself up while Colbert cracked the whip several times in tandem with Jon's rubbing. Finally, Colbert penetrated Jon again. They were both moaning, the velcro from Colbert's balrog costume getting caught on Jon's silk sequin wizard robes and making a scratchy noise. Everything seemed back to normal as Colbert emitted a grunt that resembled a roar.

"Get into my shadow!" Jon cried out in ecstacy, altering slightly the famous Gandalf quote from Fellowship. "Yes, get it!"

Colbert roared again and thrusted faster, making sure to hit Jon's sweet spot. Suddenly, he yelled: "AND THUS, WE LIE TOGETHER AS MAN AND MAN, AWAITING OUR RITUAL STONING!"

Stewart fell still. He pushed Colbert off hard, and Colbert fell to the floor painfully. Stewart backed up against the headboard, staring at Colbert with confusion and fright.

"Steph, w-what did you just say?" he said fearfully.

Colbert adjusted his glasses. He clapped his hands to his mouth, mute and horrified at the same time. "Oh my Ggod! What's happening to me, JStew?"

Jon crawled to Steph and held him, rocking him back and forth. Colbert was crying. Jon took the time to remove Colbert's glasses to remind him of the real man within. "Shh Steph shh. You're still here. It's still you. See? I'm with you. I'm in here." He pointed to Colbert's heart. "I think you're experiencing character bleed, bro. Is anything the matter? Did anything happen? What's the matter?"

"I… I…" Colbert had felt off all day. He had neglected to tell Jon that when he came over that day, he saw Jon and immediately felt sick by the sight of him. His stomach was queasy and everything, like he was going to vomit. But that wasn't the sort of thing you told the person you were regularly sleeping with. "I don't know Jon. I really don't. I usually leave the fake Steven Colbert back in the office. Especially when I'm in your arms. But now it feels different. It feels weird and I don't know why."

"Is it because we've been getting too vanilla lately?" Asked Jon worriedly. "Are you tired of just having sex with only me?"

"No, Jon…"

"We could have threesomes again. I'll do anything for you. We can contact the usuals. Do you want me to call John Oliver?"

"No…"

"Conan?"

"No…"

"Peter Jackson?"

"Well, no."

"I thougth roleplaying would get you in the mood again…"

"I know, J. I don't know what's wrong with me, man? I've never felt this way before." Jon Stewart tapped him comfortingly on the nose. "Well, we'll figure it out together as always. But for now, let's get ready for the annual talk show gala. Everyone else is expecting us since it's the biggest talk show event of the year.

"Okay, but that means…" Colbert and Jon shared a sharp stare. Jon slowly nodded, his eyes saddening. Colbert gently plucked the glasses from Jon's hands. "I have to be Fake Colbert for real this time."

"I know," said Jon quietly.

Colbert slowly slid the glasses on, and closed his eyes dramaticlly.

When he opened them, they were that of fake Stephen Colbert. Jon didn't say anything. They got up, put on their tuxes and left.

Later…

Colbert was the craziest talk show host and everyone knew it. Crowds parted immediately when he arrived, shrinking in fear at the sight of the maniac glint in his eye. Stewart followed him, looking wary, but quiet like a robot bodyguard. As a duo, both of them were lethal to anyone who talked to them.

It was awesome.

Stephen yelled at a few people, mostly fat white guys with white hair and whoever else looked the least bit republican. He took a lady's pearls, and shaped a plastic plant to look like a bible. He also yelled at a bunch of waiters and squeezed the ass of a fourteen-year-old boy. Eventually, he saw a round table, and sitting around it were his friends. The TGLRT.

"Hey guys, how's it going?" Waved Jon to everyone when they got to the table. Touching enough, there'd been two empty seats put aside for them. Colbert sat next to Letterman, who was on his left. Letterman was the unofficial "head" of the table and he knew it, sitting there with one hand on his pimp cane. Going clockwise, the seating arrangement was: Letterman → Jimmy Fallon → George Lopez → Jimmy Kimmel → Craig Ferguson → Jimmy Kimmel → Canon → empty seats. So Jon sat on the mepty seat beside Conan, which was beside the empty side beside Letterman which Colbert then sat in.

"EVENING INGRATES!" Colbert shouted and everyone just sort of nodded, except Jimmy Fallon who laughed and took down notes. He would use that bit in the future and hope to god that he didn't laugh while saying it. Lol.

"You're late," Letterman said gruffly, grip tightening on his pimpcane.

"We were… Busy," Stewart said, sharing a worried look with Colbert beside him. Everyone knew Letterman was just crabbier than usual because his sidekick Paul Schaffer wasn't here. The sidekicks were essential parts of talk shows but they were never invited to galas because the truth is that they could disappear from the whole world and no one watching would actually really care.

Except the hosts. So that meant conan was also sulking.

"What's wrong, Davey?" asked Jimmy Kimmel, the suck up, as usual. Everyone could tell he was just itching to get on his knees and suck on letterman dick because that's how obsessed Jimmy Kimmel was with Dave Letterman.

"Nothing, I just hate this piece of shit place."

"Now now everyone, you know this is the most important event of the year and we have to socialize!" Jimmy Fallon said.

"Yes, but… _He _is here, matey," Craig whispered. Everyone knew who Craig was talking about and the air immediately turned frosty. Conan jerked, looking around, terrified.

"Where are the waiters? I need to talk to some damn latinos," George Lopez said, trying to diffuse the situation. No one gave a fuck! His jokes always bombed.

"Everyone has to stay cool," said Jon Stewart. "We have to remain clam and pretend we're not plotting anything or else everyone could find out."

"This is a conspiracy! Area 51 and 9/11 serious! The government hides all!" Colbert shouted as the fake Stephen Colbert. Everyone had to shush him because suddenly, a familiar man with graying hair and a huge chin appeared.

It's like a dark cloud of pure evil had ascended over the table and was now shadowing them all into utter blackness.

"Nyeh," said the asshole Jay Leno, who was wagging his head like a bobblehead. David Letterman clutched his pimp cane tight. It had been decades since Leno had… _Used _him and the wounds had long since scabbed over, but he would hate Leno 'til the day he died.

"So the dog is out of its cage tonight? Don't you have a master to grovel to?" Snapped Dave Letterman.

"Oh snap," said Craig Macferguson.

"I'm just here to pay my respects," Leno said in that weird high-pitched greasy voice that made everyone's skin crawl, especially Conan's. Unlike Letterman, for Conan the wounds were still too fresh and deep. He wouldn't even look Leno in the eye.

"Especially to my protege Jimmy Fallon here," Leno continued, tapping Jimmy Fallon's shoulder. The tapping turned into a warm caress that unsettled everyone.

"Ahahahaha," Jimmy Fallon laughed nervously, outdoing himself in the field of laughing inappropriately, which no one knew was even possible. Fallon laughed at his own skits, laughed before jokes were done, laughed before jokes got started but this one new because there wasn't even a joke happening? It was just freaking lame.

"'Ey Jimbo, you and me should get outta here soon and take a ride on my vintage car. It's a Ford 1823 and it runs only on fossil fuel."

"Um maybe later Jay, I'm just saying high to my friends first."

"Fine, it's a deal," Jay said, looking snooty and snotty as ever as everyone glared at him and he just sort of looked condescendingly back, his eyes half-closed, like he was going to fall asleep any second. It was his method of looking at them with utter disdain but instead he just looked like a walrus trying to take a shit.

"Anyway, I have to go associate now with Oprah and the president and all the other BIG talk show hosts… Not this kiddy table so bye now, fellas. And I warn you: y'all should be good now, aw-right? Wouldn't want anyone getting into any trouble… In fact, some of you may already be are…" With this he gave Conan a pointed look, and Conan for once stared back, an angry fire in his eyes that matched both his hair color and quirky bowtie. Electricity flowed between them and everyone suppressed a shudder.

"Buh-bye," Jay said, gliding away back to his table. Conan looked tearful.

"I have to use the bathroom," the ginger said, stood up and walked away before everyone could pull him back. Everyone could see the drink in his hand. It was dumb to try and dissuade a drunk Irishman and impossible to catch up to a man with legs that long.

"I hope he doesn't try to piss and drink at the same time," Craig Ferguson noted. "I tried that. Don't recommend it, yeh."

"It would go viral though," said Jimmy Kimmel, who was only ever concerned with making lameass youtube vids. "I should tell people to do that on my show: send vids of them trying to piss and drink at the same time. It'd be hilarious."

"They would succeed if they were latinos," said Lopez. Oh Lopez.

"Guys I dunno what to do!" Jimmy Fallon interrupted, freaking the fuck out. "Jay Leno he— he might know something and what if he does something to me? What the hell am I supposed to do now?"

"Everyone shut up!" Roared Letterman, banging his pimp cane on the table. A few glasses were ruined but nobody cared about drinking anymore. Conan had finished the bottle anyway.

"Look, this is what we do." He pointed the cane at Fallon and slapped his face around a bit. It was comical, the sort of slapstick (literally) humor that Fallon deserved. Jimmy Fallon went "Augh!"

"Lonny Donnigon," he said to Jimmy Fallon. "You have to pretend we don't have our warehouse meetings. Pretend you. KNOW. NOTHING. Act normal with Leno. Ride in his car and do god knows what but you musn't let our secret out. Okay?"

"O-okay," Fallon was biting his nails.

"Now we have to figure out how to make a scene that'll make Leno look bad tonight. We have to plant the seeds of distrust within the media, and now's the perfect time because all of the entire world's media is here in this very room. We have to do something that'll make him look so bad that people'll wonder and gossip, and that's good for us."

Everyone was about to start thinking but Colbert piped up "GOT IT!"

He held up three silver hairs.

"I got these off Leno while he was talking. Let me handle this. His reputation is about to get thrown out the window, dragged through the mud and covered in chicken pillow feather cotton. Leave it to me okay?!"

Fake Colbert was out in full force. Stewart just looked sadly as Colbert walked away. During these moments, he was not the real Colbert… He was like the Mr. Hyde version of Jekyll & Hyde. He was like the Mr. Colbert to Jon's very own Dr. Stephen. Jon missed the real Stephen but he knew his role tonight was to stay at the table and prevent Lopez from making too many jokes about mexicans. (Happy Cenco de Mayo everyone, btw!"

Stephen Colbert marched away from the table, the three silver hairs on his hand. He spotted a table with Oprah in it and a bunch of powerful people. Matt Lauer from the show today was just leaving, leaving behind an upset Ann Curry. Dr. Phil, Ellen and Oprah were also there but they were so 2009 it was sad.

"What is wrong, my fair maiden?" Asked fake Colbert. Ann Curry wiped her tears.

"Matt Lauer was bullying me again today. I'm already leaving the today show so what does he want? I just don't know. He's in the bathroom right now." Ann Curry cried. Colbert comforted her by licking her tears. It was part of his act.

"Shh worry not, my sweet!"

"Yes. You have to understand exactly *why*you're crying. Is it because of Matt Lauer or might it be… Because of you and your insecurities?" Dr. Phil said while shaking his moustache. Ann Curry cried harder. What a fraud that Dr. Phil was.

"Don't worry Ann Curry, I put an xbox under your chair, if you look under it right now you'll win one," offered Oprah. But Ann Curry ignored them. Ellen ignored everyone else and started dancing badly to a Ke$ha song.

"Where the hell is Leno?" Colbert asked. They all pointed to the bathrooms.

"Thank" said Colbert and left.

He left the ballroom and ended up in a long empty hallway. It was the perfect place to commit a crime. And fortunately for him, Matt Lauer was available. The host was on his way to the comfort room when Colbert snuck up behind him.

"AHA!" Screamed fake Colbert as he took off his glasses and started bludgeoning Matt Lauer with them.

"Ahhhh what'd I do!" Screamed Matt Lauer while being bludgeoned but Colbert kept bludgeoning. He pretty much bludgeoned his way to bludgeonhood history with the way he bludgeoned the shit out of Matt Lauer with his glasses. Soon Matt Lauer was UNCONSCIOUS*****. (Check the end of chater later for an x-planation).

"Now Matt Lauer has been affected by the secret pollen in my glasses. He won't wake up until I tell him to," Colbert said while laughing maniacally. He dragged Matt Lauer to the wall and propped him up against the wall in the hallway. He made sure to put the three hairs of Leno on Matt Lauer's lapel. Now, people would suspect Leno and Leno's reputation would be destroyed. It was an ungenious plan. The only bad thing about it was that Colbert had to now refill the pollen in his glasses. He put them out his face.

"Now where is the snake Leno?" Colbert muttered to himself as he continued to the restroom. He heard voices coming from the men's room so he snuck up to the door and opened it slightly. He peeped through the keyhole and gasped.

Leno

had

cornered Conan in the restroom and was currently threatening him.

"Look at you looking disgusting," Sneered Leno. Colbert could only see the back of his head and Conan's terrified expression but he knew Leno was smug as ever with that smug-ass chin.

"You're a failure, Cona. After everything, you're such a fucking failure you just moved to LA, bought a mansion and did a sold out tour. You're the worst fucking failure I've ever met and it's all thanks to me."

Conan whimpered and shrunk back. Colbert inwardly egged Conan on to use the kung fu how-to-fend-off-an-attack-in-the-men-bathroom tricks he learned from that one guest Steven Ho ( watch?v=Qme5l9H2UIY → this is actually really helpful, watch it!) but Conan seemed frozen on the spot, leaning against the wall as if he'd been stapled there.

"I heard you're giving yourself to everyone now like a used bong. Is that true? Is everyone so desperate to have my sloppy seconds? And by sloppy seconds I mean you and the tonight show? Did you hear that in my monologue yesterday? It was pretty funny, even republicans laughed. Or did you just downgrade and let the fat richter do ya?"

At this, Conan looked furious and finally spoke up.

"Andy's wayy better than you'll ever be, sicko," whispered the Harvard grad. This seemed to enrage Leno, who screamed. Conan braced himself and Leno pressed up against him, forcing a white.. stick? Into Conan's hand. It had a weird symbol on it and Conan turned white (well, whiter) when he saw it. It was as big as a popsicle stick.

"That's not the last you'll here from me, Brien. Actions have consequences and this is the consequence of years ago. You'll find that it's not so easy to forget me after all. But I've forgotten you. I'm going to ruin Fallon's life now and no one's gonna stop me!" Jay Leno laughed. Then he turned and started going out the door.

Colbert caught himself and hid behind a plant before Leno could see him. When Leno walked by, Colbert finally went into the restroom where Conan was staring at the unknown stick and shaking like a leaf that also happened to be a shakeweight.

"Connie~!" Stephen yelled, running in. He took off his glasses. Now that he was in private with someone he trusted, Colbert could be real Colbert again.

"Bert?" Conan said, staring at him. Stephen hugged Conan, afraid for one of his good friends. "Conan, you're okay!"

"I…"

Conan was still shaking and so Colbert held him tightly, trying to calm him down. He didn't ask about the stick, which Conan put in his jacket. Colbert had been so worried. And now, a strange fire was overtaking his body. He was pressed up against Conan, chest to chest. Conan was breathing heavily and Colbert could sense the alcohol in the ginger's breath. Conan and alcohol usually meant one thing, and Colbert honestly couldn't help himself. He was just so used to the routine…!

"Bert, what're you—" Conan tried to say, but Colbert cut him off by shoving a tongue in his mouth. His tongue, to be exact. Conan resisted at first but drunk o'brien equals horny redhead so Conan started kissing back. It was the start of some appreciative thank-god-Leno-didn't-sexually-assault-me-again sex, Colbert's favorite kind.

Colbert was feeling aggressive and, like a balrog would, moved Conan and slammed him against the sink before making out with him again. Conan moaned back and his hands ran down Colbert's back. Colbert ripped off the bowtie with his teeth and started nibbling on Conan's pale neck. It was funny because you'd think Conan would do the nibbling, what with having the complexion of a vampire and all. But he didn't.

Colbert grabbed Conan's ass the only way a fellow talk show host knew how, and Conan made a surprised sound like the squeak of a squirrel he interviewed once. It was a sound of surprise and he tried to push Colbert away.

"'Bert, what about Jon Stewart? He's usually here," said Conan. But this only made Colbert angry as he didn't really want to think about Jon right now, dammit. He'd been weird about Jon the whole day, a weird feeling at the pit of his stomach happened since he first saw Jon today. It was bizarre, Colbert didn't wanna explain it. And he sure as hell didn't wanna remember it as he was about to bang another talk show host.

"Forget Jon, it's you and me for now," Colbert whispered fastly as he tried to unzip Conan's pants using his nose. It usually worked.

"'Bert, ah-!"

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Screamed a voice. The door banged open and both Conan and Colbert jumped. They were about to yell 'fuck you' because it was usually the paparazzi always trying to nose in on everyone's business.

But it turned out to be worse.

It turned out to be

A certain Stewart that went by the name of 'Jon'.

"Jon!" Stephen gasped, jumping away from Conan, who just looked confused and red as his poufy hair.

"Steph—" Jon's voice cracked, and he started crying. "Stephen why-?"

Stephen panicked. "No no no Jstew this was nothing! I was just protecting Conan from Leno!"

"You're LYING!" Screamed Jon. He slammed his fist on the sink and it broke off. Water started to spray everywhere. Now they were all wet, and for all the unhot reasons. "The police are OUTSIDE, Steph! They're interrogating Leno! You made Matt Lauer UNCONSCIOUS perhaps FOREVER and even worse… You were trying to have sex with Conan without me there!"

" AM NOT!" Stephen yelled desperately, putting on his glasses. "I AM THE FAKE COLBERT RIGHT NOW! I AM TRYING TO SAVE GINGER SOUL THROUGH SHEER COPULATION AND PRAYER!"

But it was a lie, and everyone knew it.

"You aren't," Jon wept, moving his head back and forth. "The real Colbert looks at me a certain way, and you looked at me that way. At least 'til just now. You're the real Colbert. I thought we were a team? I thought we were supposed to do everything together? Why are you lying to me, Steph?"

"Stewart, I'm sorry—"

"I can't do this anymore," Stewart interrupted, sobbing. Conan didn't really have anything else to do in the conversation so he just hopped out of the bathroom to give them privacy. "I just can't, Steph. You've changed. Into someone I'm not. Into someone I don't know and you've become scary. It's so frightening I-" Jon had to stop and use his inhaler. "I have to go now, Steph. But have fun in your life without me." And with a tone of finality, Stewart turned off his heel and left the bathroom, leaving Stephen Colbert standing in a soggy tux, water still spraying everywhere and dousing pretty much everything.

Colbert sighed. He often had trouble distinguishing the real from the fake, but this… This, he thought, while rubbing his glasses to dry them. He put them in his pocket.

This was definitely all too real.

-End chapter. To be continued?"

End explanation: I don't like Matt Lauer, he's a douch. But I don't want to get in trouble with his lawyers or should i say his lauers? (hehe) So i put in that pollen thing but worse is implied ok? Please review. more soon.


	5. Jon Stewart

Operation NBC chater 5

A/n: Someone liked my post! I'm so happy! And my tracker's been recording LOTS of peeps so yay. Sorry for the delay with this chapter. No need to get overexcited that I'm back! Lol orz. Anyway I decided to focus on the chars that haven't been focused on this time. Dunno what'll happen yet because I'm just about to write it but I have a faint idea okay? Okay. LET'S GO.

**Characters**: People in this chapter include Jon Stewart, George Lopez, Jimmy Fallon, Dave Letterman and Craig Ferguson. Enjoy!

**Chapter 5: The Meeting About Love**

Jon Stewart was feeling depressed. He was even more depressed than the time Steph got his own show and when they had that whole Huckabee fight. Sure, he was happy for Stephen Colbert but he loved having him – the REAL Stephen – on his show, on his set like everyday. That's where they fell in love, after all.

But now, he didn't know what to do. Stephen had just moved in and then moved out just last night after the whole talk show host ball gala, meaning he took all his roleplay costumes with him and thus every cabinet in Jon Stewart's mansion was now empty and devoid of outfits and whips and sex toys and shit.

It had all happened so fast and until now, Jon was confused. Things had been going well and it's like Steph lost it. Jon had felt so hurt when he found Steph and Conan together in the bathroom. It was definitely fucked up and he hadn't seen it coming. And worst off, it wasn't even for a bit or sketch. Or a remote or whatever (Stewart never did those). That had been the REAL colbert who had attacked Matt Lauer. Of course, everyone was speculating that it was Jay Leno because of the evidence but the truth had been spelled out in Colbert's eyeglasses. The guilty man had walked away from Jon that night and he hadn't seen him since…

Jay Leno was getting bad press, though, meaning Colbert got the job down. Talk show hosts all over the world were now making jokes about Leno potentially going to jail because of the hairs. Jay Leno, as usual, was just wagging his head and doing his geriatric show that definitely succeeded in their nightly goal to put people in senior homes to sleep earlier. Of course, the public were still unaware of the true horrors Leno had unleashed on Letterman and Conan (and was planning to unleash on Fallon… Stewart thought it was such a downgrade personally but oh well, I guess Leno has varied taste in talkative white dudes) but his rep was already in the toilet and this time it was going down the shitter.

But for now, Stewart didn't care about that. He just cared about Steph, whom he hadn't seen in a while.

And it was killing him.

That was why he invited some friends over to a random cafe in New York, Bushwick. The paparazzi wouldn't find them since the front window had tint for some reason and it looked more like a place where medicinal pot was sold.

And speaking of things that smelled bad and made you feel stupid as hell, fallon had just walked in and the bell signaled as the door opened as Fallon had just walked in.

"Hey, Jon! I got your message. By pigeon," Fallon joked as he sat down. Jon wasn't in the mood to make fun of Fallon's awful banter today. He immediately got down to business.

"Fallon, have you ever been in love?"

"W-why of course I have!" Fallon said surprised. "What seems to be the problem, Jon? Are things going well with you and Colbert?"

"No," Jon sighed. "We were fighting by the night that Matt Lauer was found in a coma. I also saw him in the bathroom with Conan. He was cheating on me without my permission and I thought we'd just committed since we'd moved in."

"Ouch," said Fallon. He literally had nothing wittier to say. "That must suck."

"It does," Jon said. "I mean, I don't know what I'm doing wrong and it's killing me. Steph is… I think he's the love of my life and I'm sure of it, that's why I asked him to move in with me. But he just suddenly changed and now he's a completely different person, as in he's fake Colbert all the time instead of the real one. He can't drop character."

"I've never heard a problem like that before," said Fallon, scratching his head. The former SNL actor really didn't know what to say, then again, he never did. That's why he was a former SNL actor.

"Maybe I should just give up," Jon said, throwing up his hands. But Jimmy held his hand and kept his hand there with his hand. He looked Jon in the eyes. If there was anything Jimmy was skilled at, it was kissing ass.

"Noooo don't do that," he said. "Look, I'm sure Colbert is just stressed because of the whole Leno situation. It's affecting all of us and our plan could not only change late night and talk shows forever, but as well as the whole universe. It's a really big thing we're doing and that with your new stable relationship must be quite a shock to him, so he's retreating to his safety shell of fake Colbert."

"I never thought about it that way," Jon said, blinking. His gray hairs danced under the seedy overhead lamp in the crappy cafe. "Wow, Jimmy, you might be onto something. What do you think I should do?"

"You should just wait and be patient. Wait. He'll come back eventually once this whole thing gets sorted out. Okay?"

"Okay," Jon Stewart said, and he swore it was the sudden rush of gratitude that made him do it – that made him suddenly surge forward and kiss Jimmy Fallon right on the lips. Jimmy Fallon was mid-laugh and it immediately turned into a shocked sound as his eyes and lips widened while Jon was kissing him. Eventually, he slowly pushed Jon away by the forehead.

"Now what was that about?" Jimmy asked, laughing nervously.

"I… I'm sorry. I guess I'm just as messed up as Steph is right now, because I just need comfort right now, you know? I just feel so many feelings and I don't know what to do with them."

"Well, don't kiss me!" Jimmy jokingly said. "You're confused and you're trying to transfer your feelings to someone else so it'll be easier for you to deal with the pain of Colbert. But you need to calm down, man. I'm sorry but I'm not that into you!"

"Yeah, yeah, that was stupid," Steward said, suddenly embarrassed. The tips of his ears were red and everything. He shifted uncomfortably. "Sorry, I have _no_ idea what came over me there. Let's never speak of this again." They both laughed and then there was awkward silence for 15 minutes.

Thankfully, the rest soon arrived to break the awkward silence. The bell sounded and Craig, Letterman and Lopez came in. No one actually knew how Lopez kept finding out about their meetings because no one actually ever invited him. In fact, they tried to refrain from talking about Lopez's show because they didn't even know if he was aware that his own show was canceled a long time ago. It was always just about the latinos with Lopez…

And Stephen wasn't there obviously because Jon knew he probably wouldn't come anyway. Jimmy Kimmel was splicing youtube vids together and Letterman didn't want him around. Conan wasn't around either because he had a show to do, which meant he probably wasn't drunk, which means there would be no sex for anyone in that case which meant there was no point to having that pale fucker around if you couldn't nail him.

Anyway, the rest sat down and Stewart explained the Cober situation.

"Well, who cares," Letter man said, gruff as always. "He got the job done and that's all that matters. J Leno's reputation is halfway to ruin and our plan is working out perfectly. He can stay fake Colbert forever if it would suit as that conveniently all the time!"

"That's not nice!" Fallon protested.

"Yeah, all you ever talk about is Jay jay jay. Jay this, jay that, jay with a damn cracker. I swear, it's like you're in love with him!" Stewart raised himself and pointed a finger at Letterman. He was mud that the man cared so little about Stephen.

"HOW DARE YOU!" Letterman roared. "You know what Len did to me! How could you say something like that?1 He's a violent sex offender who needs to be put down!"

"Well he's go' a poin' thar mate," Craig piped up in all his scottishness. "Yer obsessed with Jay and it's no' healthy, not one bit. Honestly, when was the last time yer were happy with a person, and I mean someone who wasn't an intern?"

Letterman said down quietly, and stared at the table in silence before answering. He held onto his pimp cane like it was a staff supporting him, and looked remarkably like Gandalf the White all of a sudden. The image sent a stab of pain reeling through Jon because Colbert would've loved anything remotely LOTR-related.

"I'm far too old and depressed to be with anyone anymore. The person I want to be with… No, it's too complicated. The sadder I remain, the longer I remain funny and I advise all of you to do the damn same!"

"Latinos" said Lopez (sorry lol I reall can't think of anything else for him to say idk)

"You should take your chance, Dave. It's never too late!" Jimmy Fallon said, ever the optimist. "What's the worst that could happpen?

"Okay" said Letterman. He would do it. "Maybe I'm in love with someone. But like I said, it's complicated and it would probably never work out. But I've been in love with him for a long time and it kills me everyday to be around him. I've never thought of told him because it's hard being in late night. Everyone wants you all the time and you can never give yourself to one person completely. But I think I'll tell him."

"Attaboy" said Craig Ferguson, who raised a bottle of wine in Letterman's honor. They were all nodding and agreeing with the old man's speech, especially Jon Stewart even if it had made him really sad. Of course he was reminded of his romance with Colbert, which sounded exactly like Letterman's situation only he had lost his one true love.

"I'm also in love with someone," Craig suddenly piped up. Everyone was shocked. Craig seemed like the sort of guy who didn't have genitalia. "He's been with me a long time and I've never told him. Like Letterman, I dunno if I can because no one would accept my love. But he's – he's perfect for me and I can't stop thinking of him. He has large, bright eyes, amazing cheekbones and wears all-too large clothes and I get driven crazy just thinking about him." (there are no OCs in this so don't worry! I"m using all existing characters).

"We should all tell those special someones before it's too late," Jimmy Fallon said. "I'm amazed there's so much unrequited love going on here, though, aren't we late night kings? We're supposed to have absolutely anyone we want to have."

"It's the ultimate irony for us, to be in love with the one person who can never be with us," Letterman said solemnly, wiping away a tare from his eyes.

"Hey now," Craig siad, tapping the man on the shoulder. "Cheer up eh, mate? Could be worse." They shared an awkward grin. Suddenly the overhead tv started playing someone familiar…

"Good evening everyone! Hello, hello…" Came the infamous nasal lispy voice of one demonic Jay Leno. The Tonight Show was playing on the tv and everyone's mood was instantly ruined.

"So apparently there are rumors of me killing Matt Lauer? Do you know this? Have you heard about this?" Fucking Leno. "Yeah, people are actually blaming me. I get blamed for everything nowadays, didn't you guys notice? Oil spills, world wars, even Kim Kardashian's pregnancy." The crowd laughed hard at that joke in his monologue, proving that they were as usual, typical of Leno's audience, the dumbest, most awful crowd in the universe.

"Oh, and you know the whole Bill Clinton scandal? Apparently that was me, too. Monica's dress was actually mine." The unseen crowd on tv roared, concentrating on laughing just so they wouldn't have to imagine Jay Leno's gross body in a dress. Jay Leno proceeded to make 40 more jokes about Bill Clinton.

"I have to go vomit," said Letterman, who stood up and waddled away. Craig and Lopez also soon left because their appetites and moods were ruined by Leno for the rest of the day.

"So…" Stewart said to a quiet Jimmy Fallon. They were alone once again and he was still heartbroken. Steph wouldn't leave his mind but he desperately wanted to get over him. The pain was so great and he'd been feeling it for hours.

"I can't believe I have to take over the tonight show," Jimmy Fallon said glumly. Leno had ruined everything. Inheriting the tonight show now was like inheriting a former slave plantation.

"If this all works out, we'll all be okay in the end," Stewart reassured.

"Do you really think so?"

"yeah…"

Fallon stared gratefully in the eyes of Jon Stewart. He was thankful that at least Stewart was nice to him and pretended to think he was funny. It was very awesome of the man.

"What do you say we… Get out of here?" Jon Stewart suddenly said. The words sounded heavy in his mouth, but he just wanted Steph out of his mind, even if it meant doing something stupid. Like Fallon.

"O…Okay…" Fallon agreed, feeling overwhelmed by the Tonight Show. He also needed to take his mind off things.

And you know, Fallon would do anything for approval. Stewart and him ended up having sex in his basement.

"That was great," Stewart said after, but his voice was lifeless. Jimmy Fallon turned on the lamp and looked at the naked salt and pepper haired man beside him.

"Jon, I know you're still in love with Steph."

"What?! Don't be ridiculous," Jon scoffed.

"But you called his name out eleven times,"

"That means nothing. Go to sleep. I'll be gone in the morning. This was fun."

Jon Stewart rolled over and pretended to sleep. He felt like his life was meaningless without Steph in it. Fallon was always such a poor replacement for, well, anything.

Little did he know, that in a distant city in a motel, Steph was fucking a guy and thinking the same thing about Stewart. And Fallon was just thinking about how he wished his life had a point.

End Chapter

a/n: You can vote for whose pov it can be next! Ask me anything! AMA! orz


	6. Paul Schaffer

Operation NBC Chapter 6

A/n: I saw some peeps posting their fanfics in and I thought "yay its still cool! Lol" so here I am posting att but i'm also gonna advertise on Tumblr since that's where most of my fans are.

Anyway, here's chapter 6!

Chapter 6: Paul Schaffer's Gettin too Old for This shit

Paul Schaffer didn't know how much more time he had left on earth, which is why he tended to not give a fuck about anything. He didn't even voice act in animated films anymore because he was just so done with life. The most relevant thing he'd done in the past 20 years was be a Canadian in How I Met Your Mother.

Speaking of Canada, he wanted to go home. He'd lived in New York since 1923 and it was all just so boring for him now, even Central Park and Tiffany's. All he did was go home and play the piano, and then go to work and play the piano and repeat whatever Letterman said on the show. He didn't bother with the banter anymore because he was that fucking lazy and it's not like anyone ever cared what he had to say.

So he wondered, "Why am I still doing this show?" The Late Show could end any second and very often, his fingers never even touched the piano keys because Letterman was so deaf he would cut the band off after 2 seconds of playing. So why?

Oh yes, Letterman. That's why.

Paul Schaffer still considered Dave Letterman a friend and a fellow senior citizen. They had, after all, been through a lot together after leaving NBC and going to CBS. When Letterman was caught banging those interns, Schaffer didn't drill him about it. They weren't that close nowadays, but ol' Paul would always see Dave Letterman as a comrade.

Which meant, that as a sidekick, Schaffer had to support him through and through no matter what he decided to do. And that meant being a-okay with Letterman's freaky Leno obsession. Seriously, Leno was all he ever talked about, all he ever joked about, and he once asked Paul Schaffer to compose a parody song of "I Can't Get No Satisfaction" called "I Can't Get Leno Satisfaction". If that wasn't a warning sign that Letterman was schizophrenic now, Paul didn't know what was.

But Paul followed Letterman silently and resolutely nonetheless, accompanying him to TGLRT meetings – at least whenever he was invited it. Because the thing is, there was still a very thick and heavy border separating show host and sidekick. And that's how it was supposed to be in the media world. Sidekicks were like butlers and bodyguards, meant to be seen and not heard or heard and not seen or felt but not heard or seen. Whatever. That meant that sometimes, Paul was left out of the loop, or Letterman took his anger out on Paul occasionally, by making him wear a gray wig and a false chin and slapping him in the face with a microphone.

But Paul Schaffer put up with it, because he cared for Letterman in his own way. His own partnership-py way.

Right now, Paul Schaffer was in a restaurant meeting up with fellow sidekick Andy Richter. When their slave owners – I mean show hosts did important exclusive show host things, the sidekicks were often forbidden from joining most of the time and so they usually hung out instead.

"Hey Richter," Paul said when Andy Richter arrived.

"Hello Paul," Andy said pleasantly as he squeezed his way into the booth. Andy was pretty heavy, which was comically appropriate for the role of sidekick. It was then that a heavy, uncomfortable silence fell between them. Because who else was gonna show up, anyhow? Jimmy Fallon had the roots but they had their own thing, and Geoff was an unsentient robot. So it was just the two of them, the two classical sidekicks and poor men's Ed McMahons.

"So how's it going with Dave?" Asked Andy politely.

"Oh, it's fine. Same old shows, same old jokes. Same old interns," Paul said after clearing his voice. It felt weird, saying original things he thought of rather than just repeating shit Letterman said.

"How's Conan?" Paul shot back. The truth is, he didn't really care about Conan. He didn't like the man very much. It was nothing personal; he just thought someone who acted like Conan belonged in a mental asylum for a reason.

"Doing great, aside from all the, y'know, sleeping around."

"Oh, okay." There was silence again. "What do you think of this whole Leno thing, huh? Letterman's frothing at the mouth over it. He's so obsessed it's crazy."

"I know, man. I just want it over and done with."

"I don't even know what's going on half the time since Letterman doesn't tell me what the show hosts are doing. They say it's classified info. Boy, us sidekicks really have it rough, don't we? All we can do is sit by and voice-act in animated movies that are ahead of their time and thus aren't really appreciated by the current generation."

At this, Andy gave an aside glance. He was already on his fourth slice of pie. Paul had barely even noticed because he was wearing his rose-tinted glasses, which, ironically did not make everything rosier but just redder so he could barely see. But he was an old man so he was too old and too lazy to care about fashion, form or function.

Andy was still staring off to the side, either having a stroke or just trying to avoid Paul's gaze. Paul knew it was a stroke. He was old. He knew what strokes were like. Still, he still asked/joked: "Are you having a stroke, Andy Richter?"

"What? No. I just know... Some things that maybe I shouldn't," Andy shrugged.

Paul gasped. If this were a movie, he'd be playing an F chord to its soundtrack right now because everything was suddenly suspenseful.

"Are you saying that Conan actually tells you this kind of stuff? But they're not allowed and show hosts never tell sidekicks anything!"

Andy started fiddling with his tie nervously. "Well, Conan and I aren't just... sidekick and show host you see..."

It was then that realization donned on Paul Schaffer's donned rose-tinted glasses. He had heard of the rumors and jokes but he'd never thought... Well... It was impossible, wasn't it? He knew that Conan slept with everything that moved nowadays, although Paul wasn't one of them, maybe because he tended to spit at Conan whenever the ginger approached, but it couldn't be true. Could it?

"Are you telling me that... That... You and Conan are... Together? Together together?"

"A little bit... Like only when we're doing it and stuff," Andy replied slowly and hesitantly, while he slowly and hesitantly took Paul's uneaten pie.

Paul gasped so loudly that the whole restaurant turned to look at them, only to turn back because, hey, it may have been Paul Schaffer and Andy Richter at a table together but it was only Paul Schaffer and Andy Richter and they would get more value from the autograph of a garbageman.

"Are you freaking crazy?" Paul asked, grappling at his old, bald head. He was hissing at Andy Richter like a tv executive talking about Andy Richter's inability to attract a target audience.

"Would you keep it down?! I could be killed just for telling anyone!" Andy hissed back. "You're supposed to keep this a secret!"

"I know but we all know that-"

"-That a clandestine relationship between a show host and his sidekick is the biggest taboo ever, I know, I know!" Andy interrupted. "But it just... _Happened_ and it's so normal to us now and everytime we stop having sex, we start bickering during the show and our ratings fall because our banter is awful!"

Suddenly, everything was making sense to Paul. And he couldn't help but steal a stab of jealousy. Because a show host and a sidekick always ended up at an odds, maybe because the sidekick considered an act to always have to kiss the show host's ass. It was weird; Paul couldn't explain his relationship to Dave Letterman, for example. Were they friends? He wasn't sure. Partners and colleagues, mostly. They got along (or had to look like they do) on the show but in real life, Letterman barely looked at him, though that might've just been ever since because of Leno.

But Andy and Conan got along, and that was just plain weird. Paul didn't get it. And he wasn't sure if he wanted to.

"So which is it? Are you fucking for ratings or do you guys actually... Love each other?" The L word sounded gross on Paul Schaffer's tongue.

"I... I don't know, alright? I mean Conan tells me everything..."

"_Everything?_"

"Yes, while we're having intercourse. We talk and I know everything he knows." Paul didn't know if that was an indication of how great or bad their sex was. He didn't want to think about Conan and Andy having sex. It seemed anatomically impossible. If it was really true then he wouldn't be surprised to hear news of Conan having been crushed to death any day now.

"So you actually love him? And does he know this?"

"Well, no. He still has sex with other people as long as I'm not around, but I plan to tell him soon!" Oh Andy Richter, that naïve fuck. That's all Paul could think about as he shook his head at the optimistic look in Andy's eyes.

"He's telling you things and you're still not allowed to tell him anything, Richter. You know how wrong this is and you should put a stop to this. A relationship between a show host and his sidekick just can't be done and you're setting yourself up for failure or jailtime if you do."

"You're wrong!" Andy stood up, putting his hands on the table. "If you tried half as hard to get Letterman to like you, maybe the two of you wouldn't be so miserable and old and unfunny all the time. You should try actually helping him, like I help Conan, and eventually he'll see how much I mean to him and he won't care what the world thinks. Once he's done having sex with other people to get Leno out of his system, I'll be there to be the only one to have sex with him, and he's gonna be aware of it for once!"

Andy stomped off, leaving a thoughtful Paul Schaffer in his wake. Paul knew he would have to rethink his relationship with Dave Letterman. So he went home and pulled out his Yamaha electronic keyboard, inventing a somber tune that he titled "Letter Sonnet Man". That night, he went to the Ed Sullivan theater to do the show.

"Hey Paul, how are ya?" Letterman asked during the show. It was their usual bit. But for the first time in a long, long time, Paul actually answered. He didn't say "good" ten times, like he usually did. Instead, he saids "Doing great, Dave. How are you this fine evening?" The words felt narrow in his throat. He looked at Dave.

For the first time in 23 years, Dave Letterman smiled. Because of that, Paul Schaffer's plano-playing had never felt more alive.


End file.
